The Elder Vampire sat on his throne, listening patiently to the reports of his informants. Vampires, born from his blood, from across the realm had come to him. They heeded his call and were lying in wait to be sent out once more.
Their Master did not tell them what was about to happen, but they could feel it. Something big was about to happen. Something great enough to change all of the realm. A shift was about to occur, and they were the disasters who would herald the change.
"The dungeon entrance has been found?" The Elder Vampire tilted his head. It was not an unexpected turn of events.
The Eserian bordered two rivaling nations. Their forces entered the living forest as they pleased, to fight but also to drain the Eserian of its Essence to grow stronger themselves. It was obvious that one of the nations would find the dungeon entrance at some point. But for the Zetrian Empire to be this fast could only mean that his plan failed.
